Protect Me (Broken Heroes 2)

Chapter 1

Keira

I stare at my brother’s lifeless body on the floor of my apartment. I know what I need to do next, but I can’t move. My feet remain cemented to the floor, my brown eyes moving over the scene before me. There is blood…so much blood.

I bite into my bottom lip hard—hard enough to draw my own blood. I won’t scream. I can’t. Leo told me if someone ever came for him, I was to go to a man, one of his friends, and he would protect me, but I can’t remember his name.

My stomach rolls, bile rising into my throat. I place a hand over my mouth to stop the impending vomit.

My brother is dead.

My chest tightens; my hands fist at my sides. My brother is dead. Actually dead. We joked about this moment many, many times, but looking down at his lifeless body, his vacant stare, I know this isn’t a joke.

Start moving, a little voice inside my head says.

I look at the message the bastards left on my fridge. The sticky note shakes in my hands as I read the words over and over.

I’ll be back for you.

I shiver involuntarily. I need to find the man my brother wanted me to go to. I have a feeling he’s the only one who can protect me now.

With unsteady hands, I pull my phone out and go to my emergency information. I created a small doc simply for this very thing. Leo had only given me a name and address, saying it would be enough.

But how can I show up on someone’s doorstep with this kind of thing? Leo said the person would understand—they’d know why I was there—but I didn’t believe that…not one bit. Too afraid to go into my bedroom or even stand inside the kitchen another minute, I walk out the door, closing it quietly behind me.

Tears fall from my eyes, staining my cheeks. I have never felt so much pain and confusion all at once. My lungs seem to deflate, refusing to fill no matter how many breaths I take.

I make it two steps down the stairs when I hear voices coming from the level below me. I spot two guys talking, both with accents—Russian maybe. I’m not concerned until the words meet my ears.

“The boss said he wants the sister for himself, so don’t fuck her up too bad.” The men are big and burly, way bigger than me, and definitely stronger. If they get their hands on me, I’m as good as gone.

Move, Kiera! My brother’s voice fills my head as I try to stop the tensing of my muscles. I have to get out of here. If they catch me…I shove the thought away before it takes root.

As soft as my feet allow, I tiptoe backward, away from the staircase. I slip my shoes off and start walking up the stairs in my socks. Staying close to the outside, I make sure they can’t see me if they decide to look up through the middle of the stairs.

With my lip caught between my teeth, I hold in the scream that wants to rip from my throat. Fear consumes me, my muscles remain rigid, but I continue onward. I walk all the way to the top floor and take the emergency stairwell down.

I’ll be safe, hidden from their gazes—a secret passing through. My entire body shakes as I take the steps two at a time, my eyes passing over my shoulder every few seconds, causing me to trip. Landing against the railing, it digs into my ribs. I need to pay better attention or I’m going to get caught.

I sigh in relief when I make it down the stairs. I am only in my first year of college. I’m supposed to be partying, hanging out with other people my age, not discovering my dead brother’s body, or running away from two monsters who want to drag me back to their boss. The image of being attacked by one of them flickers in my mind.

No. I will myself to calm down. I’m right there, hanging on the very edge of losing control. I want to cry, scream, yell, but I know none of those things will happen. Pushing through the back doors of the apartment complex, I run down the street, my backpack still resting heavily against my back.

I sprint down the street and hide behind a group of trees before I decide to stop and catch my breath. My little legs do nothing to help me when it comes to running. I pull out my cell phone and enter the address into the map.

A little icon pops up on the screen, confirming it works. I sag against the tree, waiting for it to load.

Would they track my phone? Who are they to my brother? Dozens of questions rattle off inside my head. I didn’t even say goodbye to him. My gaze drops down to my phone. The map finally loaded.